How to Meet your Soulmate
by VioletIvoire
Summary: Oh Hermione...poor Hermione...her day just isn't going her way...or is it?
1. Chapter 1

_This is just a short story that I couldn't get out of my head! I tried to write it down and ended up with two other versions that are completely different from this one…maybe I'll finish and put those up someday when I can figure out an ending for them…_

 _Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!_

… _and please pardon my mentions of women's feminine items!_

* * *

It was his smile that she noticed first.

She first met him inside Waitrose. They had both been in the sweets aisle at the grocers at the same time and bumped carts. She nearly hexed him from the surprise.

"Sorry."

"Pardon me."

They spoke simultaneously. He merely smiled at the awkwardness as they helped each other pick up their fallen items. He held up a package with a menstrual cup and blushed harder than Hermione.

"Thank you!" Hermione squeaked, snatching the sealed box from his hands and hurrying away.

That was totally embarrassing.

She thought she had buried that box under the produce.

He tapped her on the shoulder in the check-out line. She knew it was him from his reflection on the sliding doors. She hesitated to turn, but she did so slowly just as he raised his hand to tap her shoulder again.

She was mortified when he handed her a bottle of Sanex.

"Oh Merlin," she groaned, her face even redder than before as she accepted the bottle.

She could tell he was doing his best not to laugh.

He was even biting the inside of his cheek.

She turned and placed it on the counter.

No need to be even more embarrassed.

"Price check for Sanex Intimate Care," the lazy cashier said.

Hermione wanted to die.

He lost his battle and laughed into his hand.

Hermione lost it.

She grabbed the cashier by his collar and told him exactly how to enter the barcode since it wouldn't scan. Needless to say, the boy learned how to correctly operate his register that day.

He's lucky she wasn't channelling Severus Snape.

"Excuse me."

She was afraid to turn.

Hopefully she didn't forget the back-up liners at the register.

"I wanted to give you this," he said, coming around to face her instead. She looked down at the bag of lemon biscuits he was handing her. "I hope it brightens up your day."

"Thank you," Hermione murmured. "You didn't really have to."

"I wanted to," he said with his lips slightly upturned.

"This is a large package," Hermione said.

"Ah, erm, that's my favourite brand," he said, shuffling his feet uncertainly.

"Now I cannot possibly accept all of them," Hermione said. She blushed at the thought of her next suggestion. "How about we go to that tea shop right over there," she said, pointing to a small corner. "You can have tea and your lemon biscuits and I'll just run," she added and he laughed.

"How about we have tea," he said. "On me," he added quickly. "And you can choose for me because I have no idea what kind of tea I like. Then we'll have some of the cookies together."

"Hmm, no," Hermione said as they walked toward the tea shop. "I like my suggestion better. Run and hide from mortification…and today was such a lovely day not an hour ago," she sighed.

They made it to the counter, and she was becoming especially partial to his laughter.

"Do you prefer strong or light flavours?" Hermione asked.

"I would say somewhere in between," he answered.

"Hmm, maybe mint tea," she murmured to herself. They both had the mint, peppermint. It was actually a good cup, but he had no background to say it was excellent. He opened their package of biscuits and offered her the first.

"So your day was actually good until we bumped into each other," he started their tea conversation.

"Hmm," Hermione said. "It was, but if you get me started on why I'll end up spewing out the last few years of my life to a perfect stranger." He smiled.

" _The_ perfect stranger," he said, raising his cup and taking a sip of the scalding liquid. "How do you drink this?" He laughed after burning his tongue.

"I suspect the same way Americans drink coffee, scalding hot is the best," she said with a soft laugh.

"Touché," he said, raising his biscuit to her this time before taking a bite. "As I was trying to say before burning off any remaining taste buds I have," Hermione laughed at his humour, "I'm the perfect stranger. I'm sure we may never meet again unless we exchange information, why not get everything off your chest."

"You're willing to lend an ear?" Hermione asked sceptically.

"Try me," he offered.

"Alright," Hermione said hesitantly. "But if you are better than my best friend than I may have to ask for your email," she laughed quietly.

"I'll give it if you ask," he promised.

"Well," Hermione said. "I finally got my ex to get his things out of my flat this morning," she said. "It was very relieving. I thought he would never do it because his sister said he wasn't really sure about the end of our relationship."

"And you are sure?" He asked.

"Definitely," Hermione said, looking straight into his brown eyes. "I admit, my first thoughts that we weren't the golden couple everyone tried to group us as was a bit heart-breaking. I've known him for over seven years before I started thinking for myself," she said quietly.

"You were going with what was easier?" He questioned.

"I was," Hermione said. "His family is like my second family. After my parents went missing, I couldn't think of anything else but officially being a part of his. I started having second thoughts when he started," she paused with a slight blush, "when he started pushing for intimacy."

"You weren't ready," he said carefully.

"It didn't feel right," Hermione said. "Not with him at least. I stepped back from our relationship a few months ago and realised why I wanted it for all the wrong reasons.

"In the long run, we both would have been very unhappy," she said. "We are too different and like different things."

"I'm sorry to say this, but when a man is determined he doesn't give up all that easily," he said. "This may have been a small defeat to his hopes, but there is still a larger war to rage." Hermione shivered at his mention of war, and he mentally stepped back to really notice the young woman sitting across from him.

She seemed as if she were barely recovering from malnourishment. She held herself and was careful to notice every passer-by without looking like she was taking note. And…the more she talked about her ex, the more she did her best not to twitch her left arm, almost as if she wanted to hold it.

Was she recovering from an abusive relationship?

It didn't fit the profile she painted of her ex.

Then there was her reaction to his casual mention of war…she was too young to have fought in any wars though, he was sure.

But she seemed to hold herself like a commander, a general.

"Oh Merlin," she breathed with wide eyes and ducked her head.

There was that reference again. Why 'Oh Merlin' instead of 'Oh God'?

"Is something wrong?" He asked.

"I must go," she said hurriedly, putting down a few bills on the table, but he stopped her.

"My treat," he said handing them back to her. She quickly thanked him before grabbing her bags and heading toward the back exit. He followed her curiously with his eyes until she exited.

"I could have sworn it was her!" A red-head grumbled as soon as he and his companion entered the tea shop. "She must be hiding in the loo!" He said loudly, and headed toward the ladies' room. "Hermione! Are you in there?" He knocked and yelled, grabbing the attention of the whole shop.

"You need to let this go, Ron," his companion said. "Hermione is going to skin you when she finds out you've placed a tracer on her."

"She just doesn't know what she wants," Ron the red-head said. "I have to show her." His companion shook his head. "You there! Hermione was sitting with you! What were you doing?" He demanded.

He carefully studied the red-head before answering, "I was having tea with my girlfriend." He could have smacked himself the moment those words left his mouth. He picked up his bags and noticed a forgotten one.

He tried not to laugh at its contents and the black-haired young man had to hold back his friend and wrestle him out of the shop when he smiled at the bag.

"You're still here," he said, exiting the shop the same way as Hermione. "I met your ex."

She looked horrified.

"I hate to do this to you, Hermione," he said, handing her the forgotten Waitrose bag.

She looked like she wanted to die on the spot.

.

.

.

Inside the bag was a bottle of lubricant for her menstrual cup.

* * *

 _I kept laughing as I wrote this whole first chapter. If you all got to the end I hope you enjoyed it!_

 _There's two more chapters to this that I'm planning on posting within three days, and they're both short like this one._

 _Nearly forgot to say…I own nothing (t_t) I wish I did, but I just came up with the plot…_


	2. Chapter 2

_So who exactly is our mystery man?_

 _Gah! Nearly forgot to post this chapter today! It isn't as funny as the first, but I hope you all enjoy it all the same!_

 _Ah! Still own nothing but the plot!_

* * *

It had been a nearly three months since he started electronically following Hermione.

Or at least attempted to.

The databases showed she had nearly dropped off the radar since the age of 11. No primary or secondary school records after that. There was the yearly doctor and dentist's check-up that she still kept up, but no employment or bank records.

The only other piece of information he could find was an article that was dated 6 July 1998. It was in the Society pages, not even front page.

Hermione Jane Granger, Harry James Potter, and Ronald Bilius Weasley were given titles and reparation awards for services done for the country by Her Royal Highness.

Services done for the country were skilfully not mentioned.

Harry James Potter received nearly the same results as Hermione, except his doctor's visits stopped after he turned five years, and there were no dental records. Mr. Potter's cousin Dudley Vernon Dursley was opposite. Mr. Dursley still continued to have yearly check-ups with both dentists and doctors. It was like Mr. Potter's relatives wanted to keep him invisible.

He would bet his car that Mr. Potter's relatives were abusive.

Ronald Weasley was an enigma. He literally had no records except the article that mentioned him. Looking up the name Weasley yielded five results, all in the U.K., but none were related to a Ronald Bilius.

What kind of upbringing did these young adults have that literally hid them from the world?

It was hard to track Miss Granger.

She popped up on camera at odd times, in various places. He could not find a license plate or at least a car model that she drove in. She didn't take the tube, she only shopped every Thursday, but he had yet to determine which store she would shop at next.

She literally shopped at every store in Britain and sometimes Scotland.

"You need to stop investigating Hermione Granger." He turned to Nick Fury.

"She's literally an enigma," he said. "She is literally low profile after eleven, like Harry Potter, except he drops off any radar. There are no records of her school, exit tests, bank, or employment. She would be completely off radar if not for her check-ups. How does she even pay for those?

"I saw her pay with a card at Waitrose," he continued. "It had her name and everything, but yet not one bank on the whole planet takes care of her funds. I looked up her transaction in the store records, and it only showed G.o.L. Only 100 results show up for those initials and she banks at none!" he was frustrated and it was showing.

Fury nodded.

"Officially I've just asked you to stop your investigation of Hermione Granger," he said, then lowered his voice. "Unofficially I'm allowing you to continue this search because the President just got on my last nerve. Don't get caught," he warned. "Your ticket to London is on my desk."

And so he was back in Britain.

He chose to stay in an area Hermione frequented, if calling her appearing in the area .01 percent more than anywhere else could be called 'frequent'.

"You!" she hissed.

And yet she finds him instead.

"Me?" He asked.

"You told my ex you were my boyfriend!" Her eyes flashed and he had a feeling she needed to vent. There was also the tiny little detail that he had forgotten to tell her he said that after he left her at the tea shop. She was just so embarrassed then, how could he trouble her even more?

"How was that being a perfect stranger?" she asked. "Did you know Molly was excited?" She asked. "I still haven't had the heart to tell her that you are the not so perfect stranger! Congratulations, _Henry_. You have a fake girlfriend."

He nearly gulped.

"Fake girlfriend?" He asked.

"At least until _we_ can stage a fake breakup for Molly," she growled. "Why did I have to be so unlucky?" she asked. "And I couldn't even find a replacement because Harry and Ronald saw you!"

"Did-did Ronald at least leave you alone?" He asked. Her eyes softened slightly.

"Is that why you did this?" She asked. "What better way to make my day than to win my war," she said quietly. He scratched the back of his head with slight embarrassment that she had figured him out so quickly. "It was a temporary plaster that was used to cover up an unhealed wound," she said flatly.

"The words actually just fell out," he confessed. He slightly smiled and she was drawn to it.

"In this case your word sick up caused a few unforeseen problems," she said.

"Did you ever get rid of the tracer?" He asked. "I overheard the other telling Ronald you were going to skin him when you found out."

"Oh I am going to do more than skin him," she glared. "It's no wonder he keeps popping up when I'm out. He is trying to prove you're not actually my boyfriend."

Speaking of which.

"What's _he_ doing here?" Hermione swiftly turned and glared at the red-head.

"Unlike _you_ he has a right to be in my flat complex," Hermione answered. "I am sick of you popping up everywhere Ronald. If you don't stop I will install security to keep you out!"

"You wouldn't I'm-"

"A _friend_!" Hermione hissed. "And hardly one at that! Come along Henry," Hermione said, linking her arm with his and pulling him away. "We've promised Molly we would meet her for lunch."

He allowed himself to be led away from the fuming red-head.

Said red-head followed.

"What are you doing?" Hermione hissed as she turned.

"I'm going to lunch with my mother," Ronald shrugged.

"Get there another way," Hermione said as she pulled out keys and unlocked his side of the car, then hurried to the driver's side before locking her door. Ronald glared at both of them while Hermione backed out of her parking space.

"Nice Jaguar," he commented.

"It's my fathers," Hermione said.

The database had told him this car had been totalled in an accident a few years ago. There were no records of it being fixed up.

"I kind of have to ask you a question," Hermione said, biting her lip nervously. "Do you happen to have a driver's license?" He looked at her with wide eyes.

"You don't have one?" He said it more as a statement than a question, but she took it as a question when she shook her head and pulled over.

"I just wanted to get away," she admitted. "I've never had a single driver's lesson."

"Oh dear God," he said, unbuckling his seat belt and pulling her out of her seat. She squeaked in surprise at his strength, and he was surprised at how light she was. "Lucky for us I do have a license for this country," he said while adjusting the mirrors and pulling back out onto the road. "Where to?" He asked.

"Anywhere but back there," Hermione glared.

"No lunch date?" He asked with his slight smile.

"Not really," Hermione said.

"Not really?" He asked.

"Well there is, but it's not a place we can get to in a car," she said. He looked at her. She was lying.

"You don't want me to meet your Molly?" He asked. "Stage our breakup?" She bit her lip. He noticed she did that when she was thinking.

"If you pull over," she motioned to a red box, "I can call her from there."

"No need," he pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. She was nervously biting her lip again. She finally dialled a number.

"Harry?" Hermione asked. "No, it's Henry's," she said. "I was wonder if we can have lunch at-" she stopped. "Well, it's because Henry will be joining us," she said with a slight roll of her eyes. "See you all in a few." She hung up and handed his phone back. "I hope he doesn't start bother you with the big brother attitude," she said. "Call me if he does."

"I doubt you would hear me," he said as he put his phone away.

"Sorry," Hermione said as soon as she realised they never did swap personal information. She quickly pulled a card out of the glove box and handed it to him.

The ink was written in real gold.

She looked at him expectantly.

"Driving," he said simply. "My own card is in my back pocket," he said with a wink. She slightly smiled her small Mona Lisa smile.

Lunch was at a four-star restaurant. He was never more thankful for his uniform black suit and tie. Ronald was haggling the hostess and a waiter to be allowed in.

"Hermione!" He yelled. "Tell them we're together!" He demanded.

"Can't do that Ronald," Hermione said. "I'm with Henry." He turned red in anger and Hermione turned to the hostess. "Weasley party," she said.

"Right this way," the woman said.

"Oh," Hermione said as if she were just remembering. "That is Ronald Weasley," she said simply. The waiter and hostess glared at the red-head, but allowed him to pass.

"Hermione!" A young red-haired woman rushed up to Hermione and squeezed her nearly to death. She looked at him curiously when she was done. "I thought you and Harry were just pulling one over," she said to Hermione, who blushed, and Ronald snorted.

"Henry…Coulson," he introduced himself.

Might as well go with a half-truth.

"A gentleman as well," the young woman said, fluttering her eyes at him. Hermione laughed.

"He's mine," Hermione said, clinging to his arm a little tighter. His heart stuttered. "You have Harry."

He was in danger of falling for a young woman eleven years his junior.

* * *

 _Sorry this story is so short! I really wanted to get this story out of my head, but I don't have the time to elaborate the way I would want._

 _The last_ short _chapter will be put up tomorrow!_

 _Hope you all enjoyed!_


	3. Chapter 3

_I have to apologise for the abrupt ending beforehand…because it is quite abrupt…but, last chapter! I hope you all enjoy!_

 _I still own nothing but the plot!_

* * *

She was reluctant to plan their breakup.

Mr. Coulson—she was reluctant to call him by his given name for fear of forgetting to call him Henry—truly was the gentleman she had first met. How was he not already taken?

"What are your plans?" He asked her.

"I can't think of any for our next lunch," she admitted after a few moments of biting her lip. It was becoming a bad habit, and she was having a hard time nipping it.

"I meant life plans," he said with one of his slightly upturned smiles. She was tempted to call him a male Mona Lisa.

"My mum had me playing the piano since I was four," she said quietly. "I would love to play for concert benefits and help crea-animals," she quickly corrected.

They both knew she was going to say something else.

"Why don't you?" He asked.

"I don't know that many well-connected people," Hermione said. She did know well-connected people, just not from her birth world, and she was in the beginning stages of a foundation that was already starting its rights movement for every intelligent and semi-intelligent magical creature. "Where would I get started?" She asked. He turned from his seat on the sofa to fully face her.

"What if I can connect you to someone?" He asked.

"Truly?" Hermione breathed. "Please don't get my hopes up," she said quietly. "It was a dream I only shared with my mother."

It only made him more determined to help her make her dream come true.

"Will you play for me?" He asked. Hermione looked at him and suddenly her face lit up in one of the truest smiles he had ever seen cross her face.

She was at her piano and her fingers were dancing across the keys, playing notes that seemed to be chasing each other, sometimes skipping playfully. He imagined her laughing and twirling as she played, yet she had a light-hearted smile.

"That was truly wonderful," he said. She smiled and started playing another, slower sonata. He truly wanted to dance with her then.

He did.

As soon as she let go of the last note he twirled her into his arms and danced to the last song she played.

It was wonderful.

She had never felt so complete with anyone else.

She placed her head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat as they danced to the ghost of her music.

"Philip," she whispered. His heart soared.

He quickly placed his lips over hers when she lifted her head.

They were lost, never to be found.

Who knew Hermione would meet her soulmate at a Waitrose?

 _A few years later_

"Where's my husband Nick?" Hermione growled into her mobile.

"He's perfectly alri-" the Director tried to reassure her.

"If he's perfectly alright then why am I talking to _you_?" Her voice rose.

"Well, you see there's a slight problem," the Director tried to explain.

"Well fix it and put my husband on the phone!" Hermione yelled. "If I don't hear his voice in the next thirty seconds I'll-"

"I'm fine Hermione," Phil said. "It was a close call with Loki, and we kind of had to fake my death-"

"You what!" Hermione screeched. "I'm coming over there," she said.

"No! Hermione it's not-" he was cut off when she hung up.

"Why did I ever let you dig deeper into that-" Fury started and shut up when the woman herself apparated onto his ship.

"Madame Coulson," he said pleasantly. Hermione could tell it was killing him to be nice.

"Why did my husband just fake his death?" She hissed at him while rushing toward her bleeding spouse. She hastily poured healing potions over his wound and fed him pain potions and a blood replenisher. She was satisfied when he healed up nicely and was able to lift her off her feet with a hello kiss.

Even after all these years they could still hear the phantom notes of their song.

"You shouldn't be apparating in your condition," Phil said gently while pushing her into a chair. "You're nearly due and the Healer-"

"Can kiss Fury's snarky arse," Hermione grumbled. "Now where's that wanna be god that nearly killed my husband?" She demanded to know.

"New York."

"We don't know," Phil glared at the Director when he answered. He turned back to Hermione, but she was already mid-apparition. "If anything happens to my wife I'll-"

"Director Fury, the council is waiting for your input on the missile," a smooth female voice said.

Nick Fury gulped.

"Abort!" He yelled. "Immediately abort!"

"It seems your input has come too late."

Phil Coulson punched his superior and activated one of Hermione's remodelled portkeys.

.

.

Hermione apparated into Stark Tower.

"Hello again Loki," she hissed. "Long time, too soon to see."

"My Lady," he said with a slight bow. Anthony Stark was surprised that the God was actually paying his non-sarcastic respect to someone. "What brings you here?" Loki asked.

"I hear you attempted to kill my husband," she said quietly, but the fire burning in her eyes actually had both man and Asgardian sweating.

"A mistake, I assure you," he said. "If it pleases you I will-"

"It would please me," she interrupted, "if you would hand over that staff."

"I cannot compl-"

Hermione threw a tripping hex at him and he landed head first into a glass table.

"You will comply or I will make you," she snarled. Then her eyes widened and she looked down.

"Are you alright Lady Coulson?" Loki asked apprehensively, quickly rising from the broken glass with, surprisingly, no wounds. He tried to get her to sit after magically clearing a spot on one of Stark's sofas

"You made me go into labour!" She accused, then grabbed the staff and hit him over the head with it. He promptly fell to the ground, unconscious. "Stupid wanna be god," she hissed. "I thought I taught you better!" She yelled and kicked him and yelled again at a contraction.

"I think I'll take that," Stark said, reaching for the staff. Hermione growled and he stepped back in surprise.

"The only thing keeping me from hexing _you_ , Anthony Stark, is my grip on this staff, so I suggest you step back!" She yelled.

"Well, you see," he tried to explain. "There's this little problem of an alien invasion."

"Lady Coulson," Thor said as he landed into the rubble of the barroom.

"Am I the only one who doesn't know who she is?" Stark yelled.

"She is the mate of your Agent Phil Coulson," Thor answered. "I am guessing you did this?" He pointed to his brother while looking at Hermione.

"He brought on my labour!" Hermione hissed just as Loki moaned. "You!" She lifted him up by the back of his collar. "Take me up to the roof so we can end this mess!"

"Yes, Lady Coulson," Loki said, his eyes spinning, probably with a concussion. Suddenly they were gone and Stark rushed up to the roof to witness Loki fight off the chitauri while Lady Coulson closed the portal.

"Missile coming your way Stark!" Fury yelled.

"Incoming missile!" Tony yelled, he was about to take off when the missile stopped mid-air.

The Avengers stopped fighting to witness Lady Coulson waving a stick and sending the missile back the way it came.

"Hermione!" Agent Coulson appeared from thin air. She collapsed in his arms in relief. He swept her up.

"Perhaps I should take you both to St. Mungo's," Loki said.

"I think you have done quite enough," Phil growled.

"Shut it, both of you," Hermione ordered. "Loki was brainwashed by that staff so I would appreciate it if you at least gave him a chance!"

"He started an invasion!" Agent Barton yelled.

"An invasion that _you_ could just as easily have started," Hermione said, suddenly standing before him and poking him in the chest. The only reply the archer gave was a few flinches with each poke of her finger.

Lady Coulson must have some strength.

She suddenly yelled and was gripping Barton.

"Hospital, Phil! Hospital!" She yelled. Phil hastily lifted her into his arms while Loki transported them somewhere unknown.

A few hours later Hermione was cradling their little pink bundle and a few Avengers were standing in her hospital room while the mediwitches or wizards kept peeking in.

"How could you keep this from us, Agent?" Stark asked with feigned sadness.

Phil only had eyes and ears for his beautiful wife and daughter.

"Congratulation," Rodgers said to them before stepping back.

A knock sounded at the door and the Healer cleared Hermione to be released.

They were nearing the front entrance where cameras were already going off when a mediwitch came running up to them.

"Baron! Baroness Coulson!" She called. The whole group paused. "You forgot something important," she wheezed and slowly walked away after Phil thanked her.

"Baron!"

"Baroness?"

The group asked simultaneously.

"Blame the Queen," Hermione grumbled. She just wanted to go home and rest.

Phil looked down into the bag and laughed.

Hermione reddened when she looked down at the after-birth menstrual pads.

* * *

 _Ha ha! *ahem * please pardon my casual mention of yet another woman's feminine product._

 _This chapter ended so abruptly, but I hope you all still enjoyed it…if you actually made it this far O.O. Still trying to think of the perfect title for this story...though I do like one of the suggestions that someone commented on!_

 _Anyway…_

 _The End!_

 _Lol…_


End file.
